Chapter 87 - 86: Asterion

Chapter 87: Chapter 86: Asterion

"Ho~" Asterion exhaled, his breath deep and resonant, his crimson eyes narrowing as they settled on the small figure perched on his shoulder.

"It's been centuries since someone last spoke my name." Asterion said, his tone laced with amusement.

He leaned down, the sheer size of him casting a shadow over the three, his battle axe resting easily on his shoulder.

Asterion's gaze narrowed as he scrutinized the figures before him, a flicker of recognition sparking in his crimson eyes.

"You have surprised me once again," Asterion remarked, his voice a low rumble filled with intrigue.

"You've bypassed Daedalus's riddles and now know my name. How curious indeed." Asterion tilted his head, studying the three with a mix of caution and interest, the air thick with tension as his imposing figure loomed over them.

'Young Ricky, we must run, now.' Alexander's voice echoed in Ricky's mind due to their high favorability, a mix of urgency and dread seeping from his tone.

'But-'

'NO, MY KNOWLEDGE HAS NOT BEEN REQUIRED IN YOUR JOURNEY THUS FAR, BUT RIGHT NOW IT IS ESSENTIAL!' Alexander screeched in Ricky's mind, his urgency echoing as he observed Asterion's amused expression, the creature clearly entertained by their unease.

'Long ago, Asterion was born from Poseidon's wrath for the lack of tribute from the King of Crete. In his fury, Poseidon made the king's wife fall in love with a magnificent white bull meant for sacrifice, resulting in the abomination known as the Minotaur, Asterion,' Alexander explained, his breath quickening as he stared up at the imposing beast before them.

'As the forefather of all Minotaurs, he once terrorized Athens and the very city that imprisoned him, demanding tributes that brought its citizens into a constant state of fear.' Alexander continued, his voice shaking with disbelief.

'It was only by the hands of the hero Theseus that he was slain, liberating the cities from his reign of terror. And yet, here he stands before us now!' Alexander struggled to comprehend the impossibility of it all; even the gods had spoken of Asterion's demise, and they rarely lied about such monumental events in the gerbils' eyes.

'You're no match for Asterion; you must leave before he goes berserk!' Alexander urged, recognizing the reality of their situation.

The wise commander understood that retreating to fight another day was not an act of cowardice, but a wise strategic move against an unbeatable foe.

'Holy sh*t, is it really that bad?' Ricky asked, taken aback by Alexander's panic as he had never seen him so rattled, even in the face of formidable foes.

'Yes.'

"Hey, Asterion, was it?" Ricky asked, forcing a chuckle as he scrambled to come up with some half-baked excuse on the fly.

"Listen, we came here on accident-"

"There was no accident in our meeting; you solved those riddles and arrived here on purpose," Asterion said, cutting through Ricky's flimsy excuse with a knowing shake of his head.

"But-"

"But you are not allowed in the vault because you have not received the approval of the previous masters." Asterion stated, his voice deep and unwavering as Alexander's eyes widened in shock, while Chores felt his breath quickening, on the verge of hyperventilating.

Chores had always prided himself on his strength, but standing before Asterion's towering figure, he felt a deep-seated terror wash over him.

The sheer might radiating from the beast made his gut twist in realization: he was no match for this formidable creature.

Frozen in place, he found himself dwarfed by Asterion's nonchalant stance, the weight of the monster's presence suffocating.

Chores struggled to catch his breath, his knees trembling beneath him as the overwhelming aura of power seeped into his very bones.

"Turn back; you are not permitted here." Asterion gestured toward the door on their left as Ricky raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the creature's earlier statement.

"Oh, thank you for your mercy mighty Asterion-"

"Wait, didn't you say only masters were allowed in the vault?" Ricky cut into Alexander's moment of gratitude, his voice sharp with sudden curiosity.

"I did," Asterion replied with a nod, a faint smile curling his lips as the thought of an impending fight flickered in his mind.

"Those masters wouldn't be Paolo Bruno, Roberto Greco, and Marco Inzerillo?" Ricky asked, thinking that this might actually work.

"Indeed, they are the masters of the vault." Asterion nodded, confirming Ricky's suspicion causing him to spread his hands out.

"And what happens when those masters of yours die?" Ricky asked, Asterion's eyes squinting at his words.

"Are you saying the masters have perished?" Asterion asked, his deep voice steady as he sought clarity.

Ricky gave a silent nod, but the Minotaur's expression darkened as he crossed his massive arms, contemplating the weight of the revelation.

"Swear upon the river Styx, and then I'll tell you," Asterion declared boldly, his eyes locked on Ricky as he glanced over at Alexander, uncertain at the significance.

"If you lie, you die," Alexander chimed in, shaking his head with a grave seriousness.

"But young Ricky-"

"I swear upon the Styx," Ricky nodded without hesitation, though his soul lingered in the realm above, untouched by Hades' grasp.

Asterion chuckled, the sound low and knowing, as if amused by the fragile line Ricky had just walked.

The air shifted, turning dangerously still as a cold chill swept through the room as Asterion's eyes gleamed a menacing red, his massive form radiating a thick, scarlet aura.

The atmosphere grew oppressive, and Ricky could feel the pressure mounting, forcing him to slowly activate his mental barriers in defense.

"Good, good!" Asterion roared with laughter, the tension coiled in Ricky's gut loosening at the Minotaur's booming, joyous sound.

'It's like standing on nails with this guy,' Ricky sighed, wiping sweat from his forehead and nearby, Chores nearly buckled, his knees trembling under the weight of the atmosphere.

"The old man set a rule for when no master appointed a successor," Asterion began, his lips curling into a bloody smile.

"And since those three greedy humans could never agree on a successor to the vault, that rule will be enforced now." Asterion's eyes blazed with a fierce, primal light, his smile gleaming with ferocious intensity as if the promise of battle ignited something deep within him.

"Let me guess, I have to fight you?" Ricky asked, his voice carrying a resigned edge.

Asterion laughed heartily but nodded in confirmation, the amusement still flickering in his eyes.

"Young Ricky do not-"

"No riddles, right?" Ricky pressed, seeking more clarity as Asterion nodded once again.

"Indeed. But tell me," Asterion rumbled, his gaze narrowing slightly.

"Do you still wish to fight me, even knowing what I am?" Asterion's voice carried a challenge, as if testing the boldness of this human before him.

"Kind of." Ricky shrugged, his nonchalant response earning a raised eyebrow from Asterion.

Casually, he slicked a hand through his hair, unfazed by the towering Minotaur before him.

"Honestly." Ricky continued, his eyes gleaming with greed.

"If I've got to fight a walking, talking myth, then the rewards in that vault must be f*cking lucrative." Ricky's gaze shifted past Asterion, locking onto the intricate vault behind him, desire gleaming in his expression.

"Hmmmmm, I've never heard that reason before." Asterion mused, thoughtfully tapping his chin as he tried to recall any similar answer, but no memory came to mind.

"So, lay it on me, what do I have to do to get rich quick?" Ricky snapped his fingers at the Minotaur, catching Asterion's attention as his gaze shifted back.

"Like, what are the rules or requirements or whatever?" Ricky asked, a hint of caution in his voice, wanting to know if death was part of the bargain.

"First, the successor must be human. Second, you must prove to me that you're worthy of inheriting Daedalus' tomb. And lastly, if you complete those simple requirements, the rights to the vault are yours." Asterion laid out the conditions smoothly.

Meanwhile, Alexander furiously scratched at Ricky's cheek, his frustration clear as he tried to make a point.

"You cannot, YOU CANNOT!" Alexander shouted on his shoulder, but his words fell on deaf ears as Ricky snatched the gerbil, tossing him to the pale and trembling Chores.

"Hold 'em, will ya?" Ricky said, though it wasn't really a question, his focus was already back on the towering Minotaur before him.

"So, what do I have to do to prove I'm worthy?" Ricky asked, rotating his shoulder as Asterion slowly rose to his full height.

"You must deliver a worthy attack and defend against one of my own," Asterion replied, his voice calm yet commanding, laying out the simple but high-stakes challenge.

"That's it?"

"That is it."

Ricky frowned, crossing his arms, feeling like this was a little too easy. Still, he shrugged and cracked his neck, deciding to roll with it.

"You may attack when you are sufficiently ready." Asterion gestured, clearly unfazed and far from intimidated.

"Alright, if you say so," Ricky nodded, using the moment to form a square box around Asterion, aiming to trap him.

Then, he quickly equipped himself with all of his gear, preparing for what was about to come next.

However, just as Ricky reached for his storage key, he paused, the frustration from his earlier battle still gnawing at him.

It wasn't the consequences of going into a berserk state while wielding the ebony blade that bothered him, it was the unsettling aftereffects when his fingers didn't interface within the handle.

Each time he used it, it felt like his psyche was slipping, piece by piece, further away from him.

Even now, with the blade absent from his reality, Ricky felt his mind teetering on the brink.

The connection to the ebony blade lingered, its presence still palpable, even though it was chained away in another space and that thought unnerved him, a reminder of the power it held over him.

After a moment of hesitation, Ricky made his decision. He would face Asterion without the sword, ready to confront the challenge ahead on his own terms.

Instead of the blade, the solar flare bow materialized in Ricky's grasp, its power coursing through him as he locked eyes with Asterion.

With focused determination, he pulled back the bowstring, harnessing the radiant energy of the sun to forge a mighty, shining arrow.

But he didn't stop there.

Ricky drew the bowstring back even further, his muscles tensing as the solar power was channeled into a specific point, an immense surge of energy into the arrow.

The veins in his arms bulged, pulsing like live wires, straining against the pressure as if they might burst from the sheer force he was harnessing.

Each heartbeat sent a rush of power coursing through him, igniting a fire that spread from his core to the tips of his fingers.

As he focused, the air around him crackled with energy, shimmering like heat rising from asphalt on a sweltering day.

Asterion observed the artifact in Ricky's hands with growing intrigue, his expression shifting as he recognized the potential threat.

However, even as his body screamed under the strain, Ricky clenched his teeth, sweat pouring down his face in rivulets as he forced the bowstring back even further. Every muscle trembled with effort, and his grip tightened around the weapon, determination coursing through him like a wildfire.

With every ounce of strength he could muster, he pulled the bow back, intent on unleashing its full power.

But instead of releasing the arrow, he turned his focus to the box encasing Asterion. Channeling the energy that surged within him, he ignited a brilliant blaze, flames licking the edges of the confinement.

The inferno erupted, filling the space with a searing heat, as Ricky sought to cook the Minotaur alive in a storm of solar energy.

The flames crackled and roared, casting flickering shadows as they danced around Asterion, illuminating the determination etched across Ricky's face.

As the smoke and embers swirled, Ricky's constructs sprang into action, bringing down sharp blades one after another within this hellscape.

The air was thick with heat and tension, and each blade sliced through the remnants of the explosion, aiming for Asterion with unrelenting precision.

Ricky's left eye strained under the exertion, becoming bloodshot as he pushed his limits.

The energy he had unleashed was taxing, every fiber of his being protesting against the weight of the power he wielded.

Despite the agony coursing through him, he focused, channeling his will into the constructs that whirled around Asterion.

Finally, he released a shaky breath, feeling the pressure of the battle weigh heavily on his chest as his fingers holding the bowstring slipped free.

*WHOOOOSH*

*BOOOOOOM*

Ricky released the bowstring and lowered his barrier, his heart racing as the sun arrow shot forth with blinding speed.

It collided with Asterion in an instant, detonating the entire room in a mighty explosion that sent shockwaves rippling through the air.

The blast echoed with a deafening roar, dust and black fog engulfing the space, obscuring all vision as debris rained down.

The cacophony of the explosion roared in Ricky's ears, and he shielded his face from the flying particles.

As the dust gradually began to settle, the chaos receded, revealing Asterion still standing amid the wreckage.

He remained unfazed, a fierce grin plastered across his face, the scarlet aura surrounding him flickering but intact.

The Minotaur's eyes glinted with amusement, as if the explosive display had only ignited his excitement for the battle ahead.

Baffled, Ricky watched as Asterion glanced down at his chest, where a small black spot sizzled on his right pec.

The laughter erupted from the Minotaur, a deep, booming sound that reverberated through the room, mocking Ricky's efforts.

"Young human, you really pack a punch!" Asterion bellowed, wiping his chest with a smirk, his laughter echoing like thunder.

The compliment dripped with a mistaken mockery, and it only fueled the fire of frustration in Ricky's gut.

'F*ck, I should've used the blade,' Ricky thought, the weight of his arrogance crashing down on him like a tidal wave.

Every ounce of overconfidence that had propelled him into this moment now felt like a bitter reminder of his mistake.

The absence of the ebony blade gnawed at him; it could have tipped the scales in his favor, but now he stood exposed and vulnerable, his earlier bravado crumbling under Asterion's towering presence.

"I approve of your strength," Asterion roared with surprising delight, his laughter booming around the room as he let Ricky catch his breath. The Minotaur's smile widened, an unsettling mix of mirth and menace.

"Now, if you manage to survive one of my attacks, then you will be granted the title of successor to the vault," Asterion continued, his tone shifting to one of grave seriousness.

The weight of Asterion's words hung heavily in the air, and Ricky felt a knot tighten in his stomach.

Ricky gulped, the sound echoing in the tense silence as his gaze flicked to the imposing axe strapped to Asterion's back.

The weapon loomed large, a grim reminder of the power the Minotaur wielded as doubts crept into Ricky's mind, but he shook them off, steeling himself.

"Oh, don't worry, human; I won't be using my axe, but my fist." Asterion said, pointing confidently at his massive hand as Ricky nodded, a rush of relief washing over him.

'Oh, thank christ.' Ricky thought, exhaling a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding as he watched the Minotaur loosen his muscles, each movement emphasizing the raw power contained within his frame.

"Would you like some time to process my oncoming attack?" Asterion offered politely, his tone unexpectedly considerate.

It was clear he recognized that this human needed a moment to prepare for what was to come.

"I mean, if you wouldn't mind?" Ricky gestured toward Asterion, his voice steady despite the tension building in the room.

He took a couple of deep breaths, centering himself, then began to form a force field around him.

With each breath, he conjured another layer, fortifying his defenses.

One more, and then another, as he pushed himself further, crafting various walls in front of him, each shimmering with energy and determination.

But soon, the mental strain became palpable, pressing against his mind like a weight.

He could feel himself nearing his limit, the effort of maintaining such elaborate barriers exceeding his capacity.

'Just focus, focus.' Ricky reminded himself, gritting his teeth against the fatigue threatening to cloud his judgment.

This was his moment to prepare, and he needed every ounce of strength he could muster to withstand Asterion's impending attack.

*Tink*

*Tink*

"Very impressive; you wield powers, yet I sense no divinity. Humans have become quite interesting," Asterion remarked, lightly flicking at the shimmering barrier with a bemused expression as his gaze shifted back to Ricky, who was bracing himself for the imminent attack.

"Are you ready, human?" Asterion inquired again, his voice a blend of curiosity and anticipation.

Ricky met his gaze and nodded firmly, determination etched across his face as the air around them crackled with tension as both combatants prepared to engage in the clash that would determine Ricky's fate.

"Prepare yourself for strength you've never seen." Asterion's words were bold, but his actions spoke louder.

His very movements radiated unrestrained power, the kind only the mythic forefather of all Minotaurs could possess.

The sinew of his muscles coiled like a tightened spring as he wound his fist back, the atmosphere around him humming with raw physical energy and then, with a terrifying precision, he unleashed his punch toward Ricky.

The impact was immediate and devastating.

Ricky's carefully constructed psychic barriers, once formidable, shattered like fragile glass under the sheer force of Asterion's strike.

Every layer of defense Ricky had painstakingly erected crumbled in a cascade of failure.

No mystical power, no divine energy fueled the Minotaur's attack, only the primordial might that had long defined his existence.

Ricky could feel the consequences the moment Asterion's fist connected with his mental constructs.

The psychic backlash was excruciating with blood began to trickle from his eyes, nose, ears, and mouth as if his very body rebelled against the force he had failed to contain.

His mind screamed in agony as the punch's impact rippled through his nervous system, the pain unlike anything he had ever experienced before.

The sheer magnitude of Asterion's blow propelled Ricky backward with tremendous speed.

Ricky felt the world blur around him, his body careening uncontrollably through the air, before crashing violently against the stone wall behind him.

The impact rattled his bones, and the breath was knocked from his lungs as everything around him went dark for a brief, disorienting moment as the room seemed to spin, the weight of the punch leaving him on the verge of unconsciousness.

But through the haze of pain, Ricky remained defiant, his body refusing to give in despite the brutal onslaught.

*BOOOM*

*COUGH*

Ricky's body collided with the wall with a bone-crunching force, the sickening crack of his ribs shattering against the stone echoing through the chamber.

Blood gushed from his mouth, spraying the air as the sheer impact forced his body deeper into the wall's unforgiving surface.

His armor, once gleaming with a knightly pride, now felt like a cage, trapping his breath as his chest caved in from the blow.

The force of the collision sent a shockwave through the room, a massive plume of dust and debris erupting outward like a storm.

For a moment, everything fell into complete and utter silence, the kind that chills the soul.

No sound could penetrate the suffocating stillness as the dust settled, slowly revealing the aftermath.

As the cloud cleared, Ricky was slumped lifelessly against the wall, his once-proud form now battered and broken.

His knightly attire, which had withstood countless battles, hung tattered and bloodstained. His chest barely moved, each shallow breath a struggle against the unbearable pain in his broken ribs.

The room stood frozen in the eerie silence, a stark contrast to the brutal violence that had just occurred.

*GASP*

A sharp gasp tore through the suffocating silence, Ricky's body convulsing as waves of excruciating pain pulsed through his battered form.

Every breath felt like fire in his lungs, his broken ribs sending stabbing jolts of agony with each shallow inhale.

Ricky's muscles trembled uncontrollably, barely able to keep him upright against the wall.

"Ohhhhhhhhhhh~" Ricky groaned, his voice ragged with pain, the sound guttural and strained.

Ricky's trembling hands desperately tore away the dented, caved-in pieces of his armor, each jagged edge causing fresh cuts as he struggled to breathe.

His teeth, pearly white but now stained with the deep red of his own blood, clenched together in a grimace.

Ricky's chest heaved, fighting for air as his body tried to recover from the catastrophic blow.

"Human, what is your name so that I may engrave it into my mind," Asterion's voice boomed, but Ricky was too dazed, too engulfed in the torment that coursed through him to even register the Minotaur's words.

"My f*cking spleen~" Ricky groaned, half-conscious, his voice a mixture of pain and frustration.

Ricky threw his battered helmet aside, the clang of metal echoing faintly in the vast chamber, taking away from the ugly and gruesome sight of blood streaming down his face.

His hands instinctively clutched at his body, where the slow healing process had begun, but it was far too sluggish to dull the searing pain rippling through every fractured bone and torn muscle.

Every second felt like an eternity of suffering, his body trying to knit itself back together, but the agony remained, burning, relentless, and unforgiving.

"SLICK!"

"YOUNG RICKY!"

Chores and Alexander rushed to Ricky's side, their tiny forms barely making a difference as they tried to console him. Ricky, however, let his head fall back against the cold stone wall with a thud, groaning in despair.

"I just wanted to f*ck a bunch of Italian girls, and instead, I got my ribs crushed by a f*cking talking bull man~" Ricky continued to whine, his voice drenched in agony and frustration.

His bloodshot eyes locked onto Asterion, who only shrugged, completely unbothered by Ricky's complaints.

There was no sympathy in the Minotaur's massive frame, just the stoic, unyielding nature of a mythic being who saw this as another trial.

Ricky's gaze shifted to the ceiling, his body still wracked with pain, while Chores and Alexander looked at each other helplessly, unsure how to comfort him in a moment like this.

"Slick, are you-"

"Can we all just sit in silence for a while? I really don't want to do anything else..." Ricky groaned, raising his hand weakly to stop Chores and Alexander from doing anything further.

From Asterion's perspective, it was a shock; Alexander and Chores might not grasp the weight of it, but that didn't diminish the connection Ricky's words forged.

Ricky's message struck a chord—though they were fundamentally different, they shared similar experiences and emotions.

One had the courage to finally push forward, while the other remained ensnared in an eternal cycle of despair.

"Listen, Asterion, if you want to keep guarding this empty vault, then go for it." Ricky walked past Asterion, shutting the inventory filled with the ebony blade and various valuables as he made his way toward the door.

"But let's make a deal." Ricky paused and looked up, locking eyes with Asterion.

"I'm going to come back before I leave Italy and ask you again because I feel like I owe myself that much." Ricky waved toward Chores, who hurriedly rushed over, while Alexander scampered back onto his shoulder.

"If you want to stay, then whatever. But if you come with me, I'll show you just how f*cking fun life really is and what you've been missing out on by cooping yourself up in this cramped tomb." Ricky turned away, leaving Asterion with a whirlwind of thoughts.

As Ricky stepped out of the vault, Asterion lingered behind, plopping down on a nearby boulder instead of following as he sank into contemplation, the weight of Ricky's words hanging heavily in the air.

To put it plainly, Asterion hadn't given up on life; he was just paralyzed by the fear of losing everything he had once again, just as he had before.

The memories of his past were a heavy burden, making it difficult for him to imagine moving on and starting anew.

Each attempt felt like a risk, a gamble that could lead to more heartache.

His loneliness festered, especially after Daedalus's death, which had left him truly alone.

The vibrant connection he once had was now a ghost, and the void it left behind only deepened his isolation.

Asterion had buried himself within the tomb, convincing himself that he was simply guarding Daedalus's last masterpiece.

It was a noble excuse, but deep down, he knew it was a facade, a way to run away from his problems.

He didn't want to feel remorse or guilt anymore; he wanted to escape the memories that haunted him like shadows.

But now, as he sat on that boulder, Ricky's words echoed in his mind, cutting through the silence that had engulfed him for centuries.

For the first time in ages, a single thought pierced through his defenses.

'Have I been so afraid of feeling despair that I have forgotten what it means to truly live?'

Meanwhile Outside The Tomb,

"Here."

Plopped down in front of the quietly sitting Verdelet, Ricky tossed the diaries he had promised him.

The vampire's eyes lit up with intrigue, his expression shifting from calm to delight as he eagerly reached for the books.

As he began skimming through the pages, a smile stretched wider across his face, illuminating his features with an infectious enthusiasm.

Each word seemed to resonate with him, and the more he read, the more his excitement grew before he gazed back up at him.

"You're the first human to truly pique my interest since I met Daedalus himself," Verdelet chuckled, his laughter echoing with an ancient warmth.

"Let me guess,the tomb was designed to keep you out." Ricky said, piecing together the puzzle with a light sigh.

"Yes, long ago I went by the name king Cocalus, and the one who was supposed to get a vault that would serve as a place to conduct my research but-"

"Let me guess again: he didn't trust you because you're an old vampire hell-bent on reclaiming the vampire throne and will do whatever it takes to get it?" Ricky said, his tone casual as if the revelation came as no surprise as Verdelet shrugged in response.

"Well, we make life as we will it, and I want to rule over all vampires," Verdelet stated, his ambition clear while Ricky sighed and shook his head in response.

"Alright, well, I'm off to see what your nemesis, Dracula, is up to." Ricky said, striding past Verdelet, who remained true to his word.

"I wasn't joking when I said I'd lend you an army. Remember that." Verdelet replied, his tone serious as Ricky turned back, laughter bubbling up as he spread his arms wide.

"Well, like I said before, if I ever go to war with Dracula, you'll be the first I call," Ricky said, waving as he walked away, Chores trotting eagerly by his side.

"Are you sure that it is wise to-"

"Who cares? If he takes over the world, at least he'll have a favorable impression of me and might let me do whatever I want. It works out either way." Ricky shrugged, brushing off any concerns as Verdelet, overhearing him, erupted into hysterical laughter in the distance.

"That isn't a good thing-"

"Oh whatever, let's get wasted on the train ride back."

3 hours later,

"God, I swear, if we get attacked by vampires, I'm going to lose my sh*t." Ricky grumbled, his frustration evident as he leaned against the bar of the luxurious train car.

"Reginald, get me another." Ricky set his empty glass down, and the man, who wasn't named Reginald, let out an exasperated sigh but dutifully poured him another drink.

"Hey, what's your deal?" Ricky nudged Alexander, who had just finished his small shot of vodka.

"I feel as if a part of my life is a lie." Alexander admitted, grappling with the internal crisis sparked by the revelation about Theseus.

"Oh it can't be that bad-"

"Theseus was one of my heroes. I idolized him and aspired to be like him and all the other heroes of Greek mythos, but he was no noble warrior." Alexander's whiskers twitched slowly, his eyes scrunching as his small paws shook violently.

*Sniff*

"But a dishonorable fraud!" Alexander erupted, his eyes blazing as he turned to Ricky with renewed vigor.

"Young Ricky, you must bear my revenge for this revelation." Alexander spoke seriously, but Ricky couldn't help but crack up.

"What?" Ricky asked, assuming Alexander was joking until he saw the serious expression on his face.

"How many children grew up on the lies of Theseus? This cannot stand!" Alexander exclaimed, slamming his paw onto the bar counter.

"What do you want me to do, make him confess-"

"YES, HE IS NO HERO, AND THIS MUST BE KNOWN!" Alexander yelled, his fury palpable at the mere thought of people still holding Theseus in high regard.

"Alexander listen-"

"Young Ricky, if you do this, I won't see you as just a student but as a comrade, and I will charge into the depths of hell with you." Alexander's tone was serious, and Ricky felt a surge of reluctance. He wanted to refuse, but the way he was stuck with this gerbil made it feel like he had no choice.

"Alright, but I'm not doing it immediately but when the time is right-"

"THAT IS ENOUGH!"

*DING*

Alexander The Gerbil (Favorability: 100)

[Skill sharing equipped]

Ricky was surprised to see his favorability reach 100 as he never thought it possible, especially after experiencing Alexander's temperament firsthand.

"I, ALEXANDER THE GREAT, SOVEREIGN OF MACEDONIA, COMMANDER OF THE PARIPANIANS, AND VANQUISHER OF EUROPE, HEREBY ACKNOWLEDGE YOUNG RICKY AS MY COMRADE!" Alexander bellowed, raising his tiny shot glass in a grand gesture.

"FROM HENCEFORTH, YOUR NAME OF YOUNG RICKY WILL CONTINUE INTO RICKY!" Alexander declared triumphantly to the heavens, his tiny voice filled with gravitas, while Ricky burst into laughter.

"Here, here!" Ricky raised his glass, clinking it against Alexander's makeshift shot glass.

They both downed their drinks, Ricky savoring the burn while Alexander gnawed on his wooden creation, taking a hearty sip.

"Ah~" They let out relieved sighs simultaneously, the alcohol warming them from within as Ricky glanced to the side, momentarily distracted.

"Oh, will you stop brooding and come over here to celebrate the haul!" Ricky yelled at Chores, who was sulking in the corner with a massive bottle of rum, unlike him.

"Are you mad about me putting all the loot in my space cause if you're mad about not getting your fair share then-"

"It ain't that Slick it's just-"

*SIGH*

"Never mind," Chores muttered, stewing in his own self-pity as he downed half the bottle before sticking out his tongue at the burning taste.

"Alright, if you say so-" Ricky began, turning around with his glass out as the bartender started to pour him more, only to be interrupted.

"It's just that I feel useless." Chores admitted, letting out a heavy sigh, the weight of his anxiousness dragging him down.

"But your not useless, whenever I need a voice of reason-"

*CRASH*

"I don't want to be just an angel on your shoulder, Slick!" Chores shouted, hurling the bottle against the wall of the cart.

The sudden crash startled Ricky, who glanced over, half-expecting a mirroring reaction from Alexander, only to find him drunkenly munching on an olive.

"Listen man, it's not like that-"

"How is it not like that?!" Chores shot back, thumping his fist against his chest with frustration.

"Because it's just not?" Ricky replied, his tone lacking conviction since deep down, he knew Chores had a point.

Since leaving New York, Chores had mostly been along for the ride and yet Ricky didn't mind.

It was refreshing to have someone who didn't just go along with everything he said, and that's why he kept him close.

"You brought me on to serve as your muscle, your strongarm, right?" Chores pointedly asked, already knowing the answer.

"Well, yeah-"

"But I'm not even serving my original purpose! I'm not worth what you hired me for!" Chores yelled, collapsing into a chair and burying his hands in his head.

*Sigh*

"I just feel that after I found out my momma died and left the circus, I lost my purpose," Chores confessed, his voice heavy with emotion as he revealed the struggles he had been carrying.

"I look in the mirror and don't see the same boy my momma was proud of growing up." Chores leaned back in the chair, the weight of his words hanging in the air, while Ricky felt his buzz fading as the reality of Chores's pain set in.

"Do you even know what that's like?" Chores asked, consumed in his own self pity to really look towards Ricky who swirled around his drink.

"Listen, I know I always seem aloof and uncaring, but I'll drop this facade right now, just for you." Ricky downed his drink, setting the glass on the counter and tapping it as if silently asking for a refill.

He met Chores's gaze, determined to break through the wall of self-doubt his friend had built around himself.

"I know it looks like I don't care about anything, that I don't care about what others think, and most of the time that's true," Ricky admitted, his tone growing more serious.

"But sometimes, I do let it get to me." Ricky sighed, turning his gaze toward Chores, who seemed a bit taken aback.

"No one ever sees it, and I don't want them to, but sometimes, on a random day." Ricky paused, his voice softening.

"I just feel worthless."

"I just can't help but ask myself one question: why me?" Ricky pointed to himself, a hint of disbelief creeping into his voice as he gazed at the ground.

"Why the f*ck did I get all this power, along with all the luck that comes with it? What the hell did I ever do to deserve this chance?" Ricky let out a small laugh that resonated with slight disbelief.

"But after a certain point, I just stopped questioning it. I truly accepted this power that came with me, even when it was weird how it just appeared," Ricky spoke, recalling the moment he fully committed himself to pursuing the trail of power back in New York.

"But how do you change? How did you decide that you wanted to get yourself together?" Chores asked, observing the transformation in Ricky firsthand, noting how he genuinely seemed to want to be better.

"Listen, Chores, you want to know what I saw in that f*cking cave?" Ricky gestured towards him, seeing the giant head slightly nod forward.

"Just failures." Ricky shook his head, wiping his mouth while another chuckle escaped his lips.

"I was forced into the light of everything I ever regretted, and you know what I wanted to be in that moment?" Ricky let out another sigh, closing his eyes before opening them.

"Anyone else, literally anybody else, I just wanted to be anyone else but me. But I finally realized that all I'll ever be is me. So I can either go through life hating myself and drinking away every last shred of who I am, or I can do something different." Ricky gestured to himself, feeling a sense of catharsis in his confession.

It acknowledged all his past behaviors and marked, even if just a little, a step toward personal growth.

"Wh-What would you do? What did you do?" Chores asked, his voice tinged with desperation.

"I started giving myself a chance," Ricky shrugged, as if it were the simplest thing in the world.

"I finally stopped making excuses, stopped blaming everyone around me, and just accepted that everything that happened was my fault." Ricky nodded, acknowledging the weight of his words.

Ricky understood that he couldn't just magically become better overnight and even now, he looked back while wanting to handle things differently with Asterion, but he recognized that he wasn't perfect.

"I-I'm scared, Slick, that I'll only ever be your friend and subordinate, but I want to be my own person." Chores finally confessed, the words tumbling out after being harbored for so long.

"It feels like all I am is whatever you need me to be and I just don't know what I want-"

"Chores, buddy, just live how you want to live," Ricky said, a smile breaking across his face as he laughed and pointed at him.

"Man, even I get scared that I'll go back to New York one day and find that nothing has changed, that I can't change." Ricky shook his head, the weight of his thoughts evident.

"It tears me up inside, but I can't let it get to me. You just can't let it get to you either." Ricky gestured towards him, before looking at him seriously.

"Honestly, I think your biggest problem is that everything just has to make sense, but life doesn't make any f*cking sense," Ricky admitted, showing that he wasn't oblivious to Chores as he reached behind him.

*GULP*

"I'm learning that the hard way," Ricky said, downing another shot and leaning back against the bar, his gaze fixed on the ceiling.

"So listen, Chores, you're my buddy, and I genuinely enjoy having you around. But if leaving is what will help you feel better, then don't be afraid to walk away." Ricky turned to look at Chores, who was staring down at the floor.

"N-No, I want to stay," Chores admitted, his voice trembling as he felt himself drifting as he glanced at Ricky, the only solid anchor in his chaotic thoughts.

"Then what do you need, Chores? Name it, and I'll help you get it." Ricky urged, eager to move past the heavy silence. Chores remained quiet, lost in thought.

In that moment, he reflected on all the things he could achieve in this world with his strength, but one thing stood out, towering over everything else.

"Do you remember what I told you when you asked me what I wanted?" Chores asked, frowning as he searched Ricky's face for understanding and he raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

"Didn't you say something like, 'I don't have desires' or something along those lines?" Ricky asked, scratching his head, his memories a little hazy from the alcohol.

"Well, I want something now," Chores declared, a newfound determination in his voice as Ricky spread his arms wide, encouraging him to continue.

"Hit me with it! What do you want?" Ricky asked, confident that whatever Chores desired would be easy to provide.

"I want Daedalus books," Chores declared boldly, and Ricky let out a sigh of relief.

"Oh thank god, I thought you were gonna ask for something like, 'I want to be more useful,' because I honestly wouldn't have known what to do." Ricky said, shaking his head with a chuckle.

He took out his inventory key, opening it to reveal the ebony blade trembling beneath the piles of jewels.

With a flick of his wrist, he tossed the books out of the storage space, closing it behind him as he spread his arms wide at the collection of Daedalus books now scattered across the bar counter.

"Here, they're all yours," Ricky said, gesturing to the scattered books as if they were mere trinkets. He handed them over effortlessly, a carefree grin on his face, before reaching for his freshly poured glass.

"A-Are you sure you want to trust me with these, the books alone are worth-"

"Eh, I trust you," Ricky shrugged, a hint of sincerity in his voice as he'd started to trust Chores, and for now, he decided to believe in that bond until it was betrayed.

"I promise you, Slick, that I'll better myself in the only way I know how," Chores said, his eyes lighting up with determination as he grabbed the books.

He hurriedly raced to his bedroom, the weight of his insecurities momentarily lifted by the promise of knowledge and self-improvement.

"By reading?" Ricky wondered aloud before he remembered all those times Chores had his nose buried in a book instead of following orders, a behavior he had always thought was just defiance.

But now, the truth dawned on him: Chores wasn't merely reading; he was learning.

Each page turned was another piece of knowledge assimilated, another layer added to his understanding of the world.

In reality, Chores had been quietly building himself up as he was self-taught in reading and writing, often scribbling notes and ideas in the margins of books, and now he had even started to learn multiple languages.

Chores settled into a corner of the train car, books scattered around him like a fortress of knowledge.

He opened one of the Greek texts, the ancient letters swirling with meanings waiting to be uncovered.

This was his mission now: to bolster his mind and sharpen his intellect as the words blurred together, he found a rhythm, focusing intently on the translations, the sounds of Ricky and Alexander fading into the background.

Meanwhile, Ricky was a whirlwind of energy, the alcohol flowing freely as he laughed and boasted, his charisma spilling over the edges of their cramped space.

Alexander, never one to shy away from a drink, matched him shot for shot, both of them indulging in the camaraderie that came with shared libations.

They toasted to victories past, and as the train rattled along the tracks, their laughter echoed, competing with the clatter of wheels on metal.

As the hours ticked by, Ricky's mind began to swim in a sea of spirits and barely noticed the sun setting outside, the vibrant colors of dusk bleeding into the horizon, as he continued to drink without a care.

Each clink of his glass against Alexander's felt like a victory, a declaration of their bond.

"S-Sir, I appreciate your service to the church but you can't-"

"I'm the Black Knight, baby! I can do whatever I want!" Ricky slurred, his voice booming as he addressed the train attendant who was just trying to do her job.

*HICCUP*

"And the Black Knight wants to chug this entire gallon of milk while everyone cheers me on!" Ricky declared, hoisting the jug above his head as the other passengers exchanged concerned glances.

"CHUG!" Alexander shouted from his perch on Ricky's shoulder, and with that command, Ricky threw his head back and started downing the milk with reckless abandon.

*GULP*

*GULP*

*GU-

*CRASH*

Ricky crashed to the floor, face-first, as the gallon of milk exploded upon impact, splattering the contents everywhere as the holy black knight lay sprawled in the middle of the train aisle, utterly unconscious.

"CHUG!" Alexander continued to shout, completely oblivious to the fact that Ricky was no longer standing, his enthusiasm undeterred by the chaos around him.

*SIGH*

The passenger door swung open, and Chores stepped in with a deadpan expression, taking in the sight of the passed-out Ricky sprawled across the aisle.

Without a word, he walked over, hoisted Ricky effortlessly over his shoulder, and reached for Alexander with his other hand.

"Ow~" Ricky grunted, rubbing his face while Chores embarrassedly walked with him off the train while the passengers stared at them while gossiping amongst themselves.

"You couldn't stay in the train car but had to make a fool of yourself!?" Chores whispered in an almost shouting tone, frustration etched across his face as Ricky shrugged him off, scratching his chin nonchalantly.

"Where's the fun in drinking alone?" Ricky replied with a grin, causing Chores to facepalm in exasperation.

As they arrived at the house where they were camped out, Chores pushed the door open to find Abraham sunbathing in the backyard, basking in the sunlight alongside Barko and Henry.

The scene felt serene, a stark contrast to the chaos of the train, and Chores couldn't help but roll his eyes at the carefree atmosphere.

*Sigh*

"I'm glad someone got to have a peaceful vacation." Ricky scoffed, shooting a stink eye at Percival, who remained silent, lounging on a nearby chair.

"I can explain why I didn't heed the call-"

"Save it, discount King Arthur; I don't want to hear it." Ricky shot back, his voice dripping with disdain as he marched up to the second floor of the bedroom.

"If I would've interfered then you would've never gained the Ebony Blade approval-"

"Well, I'm glad I made you proud, old man," Ricky replied sarcastically, bouncing onto his bed as Alexander, still nursing his buzz, stumbled over to his own cot.

"It is not as if I desired for you-"

"To what, be mind r*ped by the blade that has a huge boner for our bloodline?" Ricky asked, leaving Percival feeling incredibly uncomfortable.

"I wouldn't phrase it that way, but yes," Percival conceded. Ricky rolled his eyes and slammed a pillow over his head.

"To harness the blade's full power-where is it?" Percival noted, glancing around as Ricky sighed from beneath the pillow.

"In timeout, like the child it is," Ricky said, rolling over as the motion only made Percival more anxious.

"My descendant-"

"You know what, Percival? How about instead of constantly disagreeing with everything I do and nagging me over every little thing, you just let it go this time and trust my judgment?" Ricky suggested as Percival frowned, noticing Ricky's sour mood, but eventually acquiesced.

"Now, let me enjoy my peaceful vacation under the Sicilian sun."

3 weeks later,

*BAM*

"Kid, Eliphas has agreed to smuggle us across the border."

Author's Note: Some dipsh*t gave me the flu and I feel like I'm dying so this chap is extra long incase I don't post tommorrow. Also I'm gonna put off replying to comments until it doens't feel like my body is somehow in the arctic tundra.